Chapter 473: Jonathan's Nightmare: Mr. Lu Called!

On the final morning on Hong Kong Island, it began with Lu Xiaoxue's earth‑shaking cries.

"I'm not leaving! I don't want to go back to Capital City! I want to live in the big castle, I want to watch the big ships every day!"

The little fellow, in pajamas and bare feet on the cold marble floor, clutched Lin Yue'e's thigh tightly, sobbing breathlessly, leaving the British old butler and the maids at a loss.

Wang Guilan felt aching sympathy, hurriedly scooped her granddaughter into her arms and cooed, "Oh my good granddaughter, don't cry, don't cry. Capital City is also home, and there Jin Hu will play with you."

Lin Yue'e crouched down, took out a small handkerchief to wipe her daughter's endless tears and snot, and gently said, "Xiao Xue, be good, you can't run away from home on Hong Kong Island. When the winter break comes, Mom and Dad will bring you back to stay, okay? Besides, school starts soon; if you don't go back, the kindergarten teachers and kids will all forget you."

At the mention of "forget," the little one's cries lessened a bit, and he lay trembling in his grandmother's arms, feeling extremely aggrieved.

The private apron at Kai Tak Airport had practically become the send‑off venue for the Hong Kong Island Chinese Chamber of Commerce.

Li Fuying, Guo Dongying, Bao Chenggang… the group of tycoons who are usually like dragons seen only by the head, now stood reverently beneath the gangway like elementary students. Behind them, assistants piled gift boxes like a small mountain, ranging from century‑old premium bird's‑nest soup to a jade Buddha consecrated by a high monk, varied and heartfelt.

"Mr. Lu, this is a token of our Business Association's goodwill for you and your family when you return to Capital City," Li Fuying handed over a gift list, his demeanor modest.

"Chairman Li, you're too polite," Lu Qingshan took the list, handed it to Wang Yuyun without even looking, "I've received everyone's goodwill; from now on we're all family, no need for that."

He had his elder brother Lu Qingyuan and the tycoons confirm each other's contact details, then, with his reluctant family, boarded the white Bayflow aircraft.

The aircraft took off, the massive white castle shrinking in view until it became a white dot, vanishing between the azure sea and sky. Wang Guilan leaned on the window, watching the bustling scenery below recede rapidly, repeatedly exclaiming, "This place is truly wonderful, like a painting. It's just… living here feels uneasy, like a dream."

Lu Hua sat beside her, closed his eyes to rest, and upon hearing that said lightly, "Our old courtyard is still best; feet on the ground, heart steady."

The words of the elderly couple voiced the sentiments of most of the Lu Family.

Hong Kong Island's wealth dazzles the eye, but Capital City's red walls and gray tiles are their true roots.

The aircraft landed smoothly at Nanyuan Airport.

It was still the familiar black Hongqi, and Wang Shanghong was waiting personally on the gangway.

Without much small talk, the convoy drove straight back to Fuqiang Hutong.

When the crimson gate swung open and Jin Hu's massive silhouette burst out with a "whoosh" from behind the screen wall, Lu Xiaoxue, who had been wailing moments before, instantly revived, screaming and leaping forward: "Jin Hu! I'm back!"

One person and one dog instantly rolled together in the courtyard.

Seeing this familiar scene, hearing the familiar barking and laughter in the yard, the Lu Family members all broke into genuine smiles.

Home at last.

The next day, Lu Qingshan didn't rest and went straight to the Xinghan Building outside Jianguomen.

The top‑floor president's office occupied almost half a floor. The huge floor‑to‑ceiling windows faced the extended Chang'an Avenue, offering a panoramic view of the ancient capital's most magnificent artery. Traffic wove like fabric, and the red walls and golden tiles glittered in the sunlight.

This is the heart of his domestic power.

The fax from Ye Ning had already been placed on the desk; she reported over the phone, "Boss, the documents on your desk are the latest developments of the European 'equity swap' during your recent absence. Also, David has driven coffee futures prices sky‑high; Wall Street is full of complaints, and the White House has held three emergency meetings, but they can do nothing to us."

Lu Qingshan flipped through the documents and set them aside.

He walked behind the desk, picked up the red encrypted phone, and dialed Chen Lao directly.

"Chen Lao, it's me, Qing Shan."

"Hmm, good to have you back," Chen Lao's voice on the other end was as steady as always, "Zhang Rongfeng told you, right? The US‑Soviet situation is chaotic, a perfect opening for us. What are your thoughts?"

"I'd like to sell something to them," Lu Qingshan said calmly, watching the traffic outside.

"Sell what?"

"Arms."

After a silence of over ten seconds, Chen Lao's restrained voice finally said, "Give me the details."

"I want to use our European connections to reach Middle‑East buyers, such as Saudi. They have money and demand but can't get the best goods. We can act as middlemen, selling the top‑secret stock of European defense giants to them, and also some of our upgraded equipment. We profit from the spread, earn foreign exchange, and can use the chance to let our own technicians openly 'learn' and 'exchange'."

"This venture is very risky; we haven't done it before," Chen Lao warned.

"Risk and reward are proportional. If this succeeds, I can cover more than half of the foreign‑exchange gap in the nation's next five‑year plan."

After another pause, Chen Lao finally said a single decisive sentence.

"Go ahead and do it; if anything goes wrong, the state will cover you."

Hanging up, Lu Qingshan picked up another black satellite phone and dialed a string of well‑known numbers.

The phone rang three times before being answered.

A hoarse, weary voice tinged with deep resentment came from the other end.

"Mr. Lu."

It was Jonathan Rothschild.

"Mr. Jonathan, since we last met in Geneva, have you been well?" Lu Qingshan leaned back in the spacious boss chair, his tone as relaxed as if greeting an old friend he hadn't seen in ages.

"Thanks to you, I'm still alive," Jonathan's voice showed no emotion, like a dead pool.

"As long as we're alive, that's good." Lu Qingshan smiled, "Being alive gives us a chance to recoup the lost money. I happen to have a project here with decent profit; I wonder if the Rothschild family might be interested in taking part?"

Jonathan's breath visibly paused, his guard snapping to the highest alert. "What project?"

"Over in the Middle East, things seem unsettled lately. The arms trade should be easy, right?"

Jonathan's pupils suddenly contracted; he felt like a frog spotted by a poisonous snake, his blood nearly congealing. He indeed was being drawn into the arms business!

"I've heard the Saudi Royal Family has a young prince named Saleman, very decisive, who's lately deeply worried about his nation's defense security. Your family should be able to talk with him, right?"

On the other end, Jonathan clenched the handset tightly. How could he not know Saleman? He's almost one of the Rothschilds' most important partners in the Middle East! What is Lu Qingshan up to? Trying to reach into their money bag and dig out their hearts?

"Mr. Lu, the arms‑trade waters are deep and murky…"

"I know," Lu Qingshan interrupted, "which is why I'm seeking seasoned veterans like you. Help me contact Prince Saleman and tell him that Huaxia has a peace‑loving merchant who has long admired his reputation and wishes to invite him to a private visit to Capital City—to see the Great Wall, taste fine tea, and, incidentally… discuss how to better maintain world peace and regional stability."

Jonathan's teeth chattered.

"A merchant who loves peace? Maintaining world peace? Would he even believe such nonsense himself?! It's clearly a ploy to make Saudi the dupe, treating them as pimps!"

"What's in it for us?" Jonathan squeezed out the question between his teeth.

"From this project's total profit, the Rothschilds can take half from the fund."

"Half?!" Jonathan nearly crushed the phone, this is a blatant insult! They've labored and risked angering American arms firms, only to get this paltry share?

"What, think it's too little?" Lu Qingshan's voice turned cold, "Mr. Jonathan, you must understand, I'm not negotiating with you. I'm giving you a chance to make amends. You can also choose not to act, then I'll go to Morgan or Rockefeller. I think they'll be very interested in this project. As for the Rothschilds… I"

Lu Qingshan didn't finish his sentence, but the unfinished threat, like a cold blade, instantly pressed against Jonathan's throat.

A fine layer of cold sweat seeped onto Jonathan's forehead. He knew that if he refused, Lu Qingshan, that devil, would unite other families without hesitation and uproot Rothschild's influence in the Middle East!

…I will.

After a long while, Jonathan finally forced those two words out between his teeth, each word brimming with endless humiliation and resentment.

"Very well." Lu Qingshan nodded with satisfaction, "I'll be waiting for your good news."

After saying that, he hung up the phone outright, giving the other side no chance to speak.

He stood up, walked back to the floor-to-ceiling window, and gazed at the city beneath his feet, now pulsing with new life.

The deserts of the Middle East conceal countless veins of gold and oil.

Now is the time to let those glittering riches pave a broad road for Huaxia's rise.